How do you forget all the time you gave?
I’ll tell you simply, we men don’t. We feel every stone that was thrown. Every pebble that attempted to break our bones. We lose sight before we gain vision. We lose traction before airbags deploy. We’d rather burn gas than to remember the past, and if we’re speeding fast - we’re stuck letting the engine scream everything we couldn’t from our dreams. We burn in fire for the right desires and let them go when we realize that every lie was simply not ours. Men have the privilege of letting their stories make sense and sometimes they’ll collect every shred of evidence. Even when they have every opportunity to do the worst, they choose to be better and simply coerce. We coerce ourselves into reminding our cells that we are still here. However we communicate with our body out loud, we can’t even begin to get others to hear. We let it cry only when it needs, we refrain from letting it be seen when we can. Other times, we have to let it go on the street corner with a cigarette in our hand. We cry through what we say and not what we show on our face. We cry when we’re mad, sad, anxious, stressed, and depressed. We don’t need our loved ones to see it so when they’re around, we try our best. Is this the same performance that killed us at our best? Did you know that I was done putting money to my chest? What did it take for you to realize that for us I would take on a billion in debt? The part you fail to realize is that bankruptcy and foreclosure are two realities i’ve seen best even the best. There’s no reason for me to do things in a show to impress. Especially when you were the one to be my Empress. With a name of goddess you may have had the world fooled, but even the word Queen is derived from the word Quean and that’s a prostitute - which they only fool foolish men. It may work to those that so righteously believe that the body is everything, in this short reality. What you may forget is that our son is dead and it’s hard to live life without them in my head. So if I abandoned a goddess it’s because the son was right, he needed more attention than we could provide day and night. Luckily for us the sun is alive and I’m okay with him living if we have to die. No matter the truth, I can tell you more than you know, there is fables of art that go beyond my stories told. We keep secrets from the planet for various reasons - primarily the truth that we need all four seasons. We may consider Ice Age and I’ve seen those dreams too. One thing I can’t say is why I had a vision of you saying: “They Were Always Irrelevant” too. The first thing I saw when I awoke today was a post on your page with a shrug and hand on your face. I can’t even see you like that anymore and it broke me apart so I can’t speak on what I saw in a second without warning…..
There are so many parts of me that I never tell because every time I do, they seem to drag me to hell. They would torture me for every ounce I could give and if you think I’m worried about death, read Artistry again.
The one truth with Mac is I couldn’t even cry. He was my best friend since high school so I knew what he was feeling inside. He tried his best to give Ariana his world and the little things she said sentenced him to death - when she meant more than it all. I couldn’t process his death because I knew every bit of what he said. I listened to Swimming relentlessly when I had to get the old out of my head. He gave me a gift every time he spoke and for that, I can be okay with knowing I forgive him for taking his own.
When XXXTentacion was killed, I cried that whole day. He was a kid and I hadn’t even experienced his music much while he was alive. I sat on the floor in my room crying for hours. Listening to Jocelyn Flores on repeat before heading into his albums front to back, she was the only song I knew word for word before that day.
I couldn’t even smoke weed to forget, I was so depressed. I simply got off work and went straight to the floor, dying inside over a kid I never really knew before. At least with Mac Miller, I knew he went exactly how he wanted to go. He was ambushed by love and not a gun. What difference does it make when it is one?
This is the pain we feel that cannot be healed, no matter how easy it may seem, we will never forget what simple losses in our community do to make it all so real.
I’d rather die in the community that raised me than die fighting over land. For that, I make countless decisions that always bounce me upright again. No matter how much I feel like I die, it’s only more that I can’t decide on because I’m forever broken inside.